The Goddess Beats The Angel
by Lisle987
Summary: Hi everybody! This is a MegXPhantom story, about what would have happened if Meg and The Phantom had met when Christine had left. I need to know if I should continue the story or not, so please answer that in your review! Enjoy, and please review! XD


**Hi, everybody! :D This is my second fanfic ever, and a very short one, but my first about Phantom of the Opera. :3 Basically, the plot is what would have happened if Meg and The Phantom had met in the first movie, instead of Meg (LOVE NEVER DIES SPOILERS) falling in wuv with him in Love Never Dies. So, hope you enjoy! ;D But if you don't, can you tell me why? But try not to be too mean, okay? :( I'm not a fan of death threats. O_O Anyway...it begins! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, any of it's characters or any of music used in any of the Phantom of the Opera movies made.**

**Note: I completely made up the Meg healing power thingie, but, hey, it's my fanfic. Deal. :3**

**Sorry if it seems a bit OOC, I just think that, if we got to know more about Meg, it would have shown that she was a proud female, with an attitude! YAH! XD**

**SPOILER ALERT O_O  
**

I stared into the lake, the candles reflecting off it, making it seem as if pillars of fire flickered across the water, sent to swallow me and take me to my own personal Hell. It's too late demons. I'm already there. I looked up, as a flashback took over me. The memories of me...Christine...**him, **and how he took my precious angel away. She always used to call me her Angel of Music. But, the truth was, I was a demon, that tried to get in the way of fate. Of her fate...with **him.** That's the way it should be. But that's not the way I want it to be! I slammed my fist into the water, at my reflection, at the face that torments me everywhere I go, the thing that makes me a monster. But, soon enough, it rippled back in place, showing the hideous face yet again. Even the water won't let me escape from it. She used to call me an Angel of Music. But, truthfully, she was the only angel. She was an Angel of Music. But not **my **Angel of Music. She was **his.** That slave of fashion, that dull prince.** Why **did she go with him? I would love her for all eternity, give her all my passion, all my adoration, anything she desired would be hers...and, yet, she left. She went with **him. **I thought at first that it was because she was disgusted with my appearence. She was at first. But then she told me that it was my soul that had the true scars. The moment she said it, I knew it to be true. I always knew it, truly. I just never let that truth surface. I looked once again into the water, like a reflex, as the flashback went on. I remembered how we kissed. The longings that came from her touch, the way that she kissed gently, as if someone had just brushed a rose across my lips. I can remember every detail about it, from the way she put my ring on her finger just before, or the way she stroked my scarred face as if the marks weren't even there. Then, I remembered how a mob rushed towards my sanctuary, sent to destroy me. I had to leave, escape from here. It wasn't safe anymore. Even here, in the place where, as a child, I was saved from there...the freak show...I didn't want that flashback to come. I didn't want to remember anything about that. I forced myself to shove those memories down into the pit of my mind, hopefully never to surface ever again. But I knew they'd come back. The memories always come back. I tried to remember something else, and was successful; but that memory was worse than the freak show. Christine, taking off the ring, putting it in my hand...and floating away, with **him. **I refuse to say his name. The name of the man I hate above all else...because he took away the one I loved above all else...

I was snapped out of the flashback when I realised I was crying. I wiped the tears away and stood up, fury making my body shake. How I hated that man, for taking away my precious Christine, and helping the public discover my lovely lair. I had to escape it, so I wouldn't be found by the mob, so I found dark spaces to hide, until I caught word of it. Two fourty year old men were taking a walk late at night, a sleazy looking girl on each arm, as they spoke of the 'Phantom of the Opera scandal', as they called it. They spoke mostly about the fire, and who the Phantom might be, but at one point, as I kept listening in their conversation, they spoke of my lair. They said that apparently, it was just left as it was, mostly because of the word of one person living in the Opera House that insisted that no one intrude on it. They never said her first name, but they knew her last name was 'Giry'. Madame Giry, I instantly thought. It must be her. Thank you...for everything. He smiled to himself, and made my way back to my beloved lair.

I had only just arrived at my lair, to find the candles still alight, the paintings and drawings of Christine still on my desk, and the large lake, with a wooden boat floating on it, tied with a bit of string to land. I smiled to myself, and sat back down, next to the lake, and stared down at it.

That was when this story begun. Soon after that latest flashback of me making my way back here, I started to walk around, inspecting the rooms, making sure no one had moved anything around. However, when I entered one room, I heard...a **goddess. **I went deeper into the room, and the sound became louder the deeper I went in. When I had finally reached the depths of the room, I was able to follow the voice easily. Soon enough, I could hear the words...(8) Masquerade...look around, there's another mask behind you...(8). Her sweet, happy voice as she sung drifted through my senses. That...was **my **song, I realised. Masquerade. I hadn't composed it, but it's almost as if the composer meant to describe my masquerade, the way I hid my face in this shameless act. I slowly stepped towards the beautiful music...if I could just find the source of it...my life would be complete.

Then, I saw...her. A beautiful goddess, sitting on a little bed in the room, wearing a beautiful, long, white gown, her long blonde hair stroking across her little pale face. She sang Masquerade with her stunning voice, my heart pounding with every word. My little wound up monkey sat on her lap, as she sung along with it's soft notes. How could anyone be so...wonderful? Tears grew in my eyes, but I forced them down. I shouldn't be here, I thought to myself. I shouldn't be standing here, watching such a beauty...a demon like myself doesn't deserve to be in her presence...Just as I was thinking that, the song ended, and she looked up from the wound up monkey toy. She saw me.

She looked up at me and shot a sarcastic look in my direction. ...What's wrong with her? I thought. Then I realised; it must be my face. I wasn't wearing my mask, since I left it here, in my lair. I didn't know exactly where it was right now, or if it was still even in my lair. That didn't matter right now. What mattered was that she looked annoyed by my presence, but she might secretly be scared, and I had to try to convince her that there was no reason to be afraid. Then she spoke, breaking the silence that hung in the air. Her voice, so very light...yet bitter...said to me "Could you stop staring at me like that? Anyone else would think that was strange." Her deep brown eyes stared straight into mine, anger floating in them. "I'm sorry," I said, a bit surprised, before looking away.

"Don't apologise," she said, "It's pathetic."

"Well," she said, "I guess i'll get going. Your staring into space is getting creepy." What she said didn't register at first; I was too busy thinking to hear her. By the time it sunk in, she was gone. "NO!" the sound erupted out of me, desperation and need in my tone. I ran after her as fast as I could, but, by the time I had got out of the room, she was rowing away, in the small wooden boat. "NO, PLEASE!" I shouted after her, begging, pleading with her. That made her turn around, but only in disgust at how easily I could break down. "Please...please...don't go..." I said, tears filling my eyes and dripping down my cheeks as I breathlessly begged her to stay. "I...I'll do...anything for you...to stay..." I grabbed my chest as heartburn took over. I'm getting old, I realised. "...Are you well?" she called back to me, looking concerned for the first time. "Yes...i'm fine..." I gasped, trying to compose myself. She started to row back slowly.

The pain still hadn't lessened. She stood next to me, and, without any warning, lay her hand aganist my chest. "It's alright," she soothed me as I tightened aganist her touch. I let myself untighten, as the pain started to go away. When the pain had gone away, she took her hand away and looked up at me nervously. "Do you feel any better?" she said softly. "Yes," I said, my voice composed and dark again, as usual. Without looking at her, I asked her "How did you do that?" She looked down at her hands and said softly "I don't know; my mother, Madame Giry, used to say I had healing hands. Whoever I touched was always healed of their illness, no matter what it was." The word 'Panacea' instantly popped in my head. The goddess of healing...I saw her looking at me, and it was amazing. Those deep brown eyes...I looked away. I remembered...**her. **How could I have forgotten Christine so easily, my mind asked me. Didn't I love her? Maybe so, but she left. Wrestling with my thoughts, I didn't even notice when she stood and left, that goddess in white. Of course, she had only come back because she pitied me. Still, I didn't ask her to come back again. I just let her leave again. However, as I started to drown in my thoughts, she said something to me, as she rowed away. She said "I didn't come back because I felt sorry for you.". Then, she was gone. She disappeared. Not like a goddess...like a ghost.

I tried to find her again, but it wasn't easy. She wasn't living in the Opera House anymore; seeing as I burned it down, there was nowhere to live there. Only my lair had survived. However, she still lived with her mother, Madame Giry. She didn't tell me her name, but I knew, at the moment she said she was Madame Giry's daughter, that she was Meg Giry, a chorus girl, along with my beautiful Christine. How had I not noticed my amazing Meg, with her cold attitude and her big brown eyes...When I did find her, it seemed she was living quite a distance from my lair. Then, I thought to myself, what was she doing there in the first place, in my lair? Hopefully, I assured myself, these questions would be answered soon enough. For now, that didn't matter. I just needed to see Meg...so badly. I eventually found out where she and her mother lived; in a little cottage, away from the burnt Opera House, and my domain that lay deep under the ground, where no one could see it. That made me wonder even more why she had been in my lair at the time. The next time I saw her was when she was dancing in her room, beautiful and graceful as she laughed while dancing. There was no music on the outside, but I could tell she was singing songs in her head. I smiled, but then felt guilty for staring at her so, without her consent. With my mask on, and my clock wrapped around me, I made my way back to my lair. Then she saw me walking away, and I thought she would insult me, and order me to leave. Instead, she shouted "Erik!", calling to me. I froze. No one had called me that...in so long, I realised. I turned back, and she gestured for me to enter the house. I didn't know how I dared to enter, but I did. When I was in her room, I formally thanked her for letting me enter. She laughed and tore the cloak of me, showing my white suit and tight black jeans. Then she sat on her bed, swinging her legs and told me to "Stop being so formal, and just relax!". I adored her spirit, and the fact that she wasn't scared of me at all. I'd never met anyone like that before...Before I knew it, she had me pinned to the bed, as she ripped my mask off and kissed me passionately, her kiss like a tornado of lust rushing through me.

I knew, at that moment, as we kissed roughly on her bed, as her mother sat in the next room and giggled as she heard us, that Christine had lost her place in my heart to my Meg. Meg, my goddess, was all I cared about. Christine, my 'Angel of Music', might as well not exist to me. This was when I realised why. It was because, no matter what happens, the goddess beats the angel. Every time.

**Okay, that's the end! :D Please review and tell me what you think! Also, tell me; do you think I should continue this story, and add more chapters, or should I just end it now? For now, i'm gonna put it as complete, but I'll definitely change it to 'ongoing', if you want! ;D Anyway, bye byeeee! XD**


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